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Flake Tobacco(s) and Pipe Selections
Hello Pipe and Tobacco Aficionados / P&T Family. I wanted to ask and get some feedback on flake tobaccos and which pipe you think works best for you when smoking flakes. I noticed from the information I have been reviewing that you can smoke flake tobacco out of any style/shape pipe. However I did notice that some have mentioned smoking flakes out of a small Canadian or billard (with a narrow bottom bowl) was best. I ask this question in search for the best pipe shape/style that would hopefully produce the best or better smoking experience of the flake tobacco(s). Does it also depend on the type of flake that I am smoking at the time, such as flake tobacco made by Peter Stokkebye, Gawith Hoggarth & Co, Mac-Baren, etc. Once again, when in doubt, ask the experts. Thanks and keep smoking what you like.
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http://pipesmagazine.com/python/pipe-smoking/flake-pipe-tobacco-preparation/
Flakes are one of the ways that pipe tobacco is made. Flake tobacco is made by pressing tobacco under extreme pressure for a period of time forming a cube. The cube is then sliced into strips called flakes. When you smoke flake tobacco it has to be packed differently than loose cut pipe tobacco. You can not simply fill the pipe and smoke it; you have to prepare the flakes first. There are many ways that flake tobaccos can be prepared. The way that you prepare a flake will have an effect in the taste of the tobacco and the way that the tobacco burns.
The larger you leave the pieces of flake, the stronger the flavor will be and the harder it will be to get the tobacco burning. Leaving the flakes whole or in large chunks will make the tobacco burn slow. This is a good technique to use when you are going to smoke outside as the wind will have less of an effect on the tobacco. Smaller pieces will make the flavor a little lighter and the tobacco will be easier to burn. It will also burn a little quicker as well. In this article I will describe a few of the different methods on how to prepare flakes for smoking. I have also included short videos of how to do each different method. Now onto the methods!
•Fold and Stuff Method – Take a flake of tobacco and fold it in half length wise (against the grain), down the middle. Then you fold the flake in half again, but this time fold it end to end (with the grain). The flake will now be in a square shape with four layers. Now lightly stuff the prepared flake into the pipe. If there is any tobacco sticking out of the end of the pipe, pull the tobacco back out of the bowl a little and trim off the excess tobacco and re-insert the flake. Make sure to leave a little bit of space between the tobacco and the rim. Adjust the draw by gently pushing on the tobacco with your finger and light the tobacco. By leaving the flake whole it will be a little hard to get the tobacco lit and going.
•Roll and Stuff Method– This is almost the same as the Fold and Stuff; but instead of folding the flake, you roll the flake. To do this you roll the flake length wise (with the grain) like a stick of chewing gum. You then insert the tobacco into the bowl. If the tobacco sticks out, just pull it out a bit and trim some of it off and re-insert it back into the bowl. Make sure to leave a little space between the tobacco and the rim.
•Rubbing Out Method – Rubbing out a flake is pretty much how it sounds. You rub the flake between your palms so the flake breaks apart into small pieces of tobacco. You can control how much the tobacco is rubbed out this way. You can lightly rub it out or you can fully rub it out. It is up to you how large or how small you want the pieces of tobacco to be. Once the tobacco is rubbed out, you then load the pipe the same way as you would with a mixture.
•Cutting Into Cubes Method – This is a method that I read about a couple of years ago and I used it almost exclusively when I started smoking flakes and I still use it frequently now. It was posted on a forum by George Dibos AKA LatakiaLover. This method involves cutting the flakes length wise (with the grain), into 1/4 inch or so strips. You then cut the strips across (against the grain) to make 1/4 or so cubes. You then gravity fill the bowl with the cubes of tobacco and do not use any pressure to pack. Just tap the side of the bowl to settle the tobacco. Make sure that you leave a little space between the tobacco and the rim. You then light the tobacco and smoke. While you are smoking make sure that you do not tamp the ash unless the tobacco will absolutely not light again. And when you do tamp, just let the weight of the tamper crush the ash. Do not use any pressure when tamping. This is the easiest way that I know of to smoke flakes. It was my favorite method to use with flakes as a beginner.
When I smoke flakes, I always pack the tobacco looser than I do when I smoke a loose cut mixture. The reason that I do this is that the pieces of tobacco from a flake will swell up more than a loose cut mixture when they light on fire. So packing loosely allows room for expansion and prevents the tobacco from becoming too tight while smoking.
These are just a few of the ways to prepare flake tobacco and I hope that these tips will help you enjoy flakes a little more or get you into trying flakes if you haven’t tried them yet. If you haven’t tried smoking flakes before, you must give it a try because you are missing out on some truly great tobaccos. With these methods, you no longer have an excuse for not trying them or smoking them more often.
From our friends at http://www.smokingpipes.com History Of Flake Tobacco
May 31, 2019 by Chuck Stanion
Flake tobacco was developed for life at sea hundreds of years ago and became so popular that we continue to enjoy it today, though more for its flavor than its traveling convenience. But 300 years ago, when seamen spent months and sometimes years at sea, flake tobacco became essential for enjoying the comfort of a pipe while navigating perilous oceans, unknown lands, and precarious futures. Whether following a routine day, or multiple sleepless nights of masterful seamanship outrunning a hurricane, a pipe helped unjangle worries and was a companion for sharing precious intervals of peace. But not until the advent of flake tobaccos were sailors able to maintain smokable tobacco.
The pipe has become an archetype of life at sea, probably because in the early days, sailors were the first and most enthusiastic practitioners of pipesmoking. They brought it to Europe from the New World, after all, and for hundreds of years, most trade vessels carried tobacco in one direction or another. Novels, films and advertising have all conditioned us to think of grizzled, gray-bearded seamen with weather-beaten pipes when we think of life at sea, as well as young, able-bodied sailors with pristine pipes perched in their teeth. The great American novel Moby Dick is rife with pipesmoking, making it easy to identify Ahab as the villain, because he deliberately throws his pipe overboard, the swine.
Look, too, at all of the pipe tobacco blends that have been named for symbols of the sea. On tobaccoreviews.com, there are 50 tobaccos currently listed with "Navy Cut" in their titles, and that omits the majority of Navy Cut tobaccos that don't include the designation in their names.
Then there are the tobacco blends that include imagery of the sea: Pirate Cake, Pilot Flake, Captain Black (with its famous ship logo), Sail, Flying Dutchman, and Royal Yacht, to name a handful. Whether "Old Chum" should be included depends on interpretation. "Chum" may carry a meaning of "friend," or "pal." Or, in contrast, it may refer to the fish guts and blood used by fishermen and teenage horror movie characters to — and I'll
never understand this — lure sharks to come after them. While more ruggedly outdoorsy, it's unlikely that fishbait-style chum would have made a refreshing tobacco topnote, so omission from the list is recommended.
Chum considerations aside, it's no wonder we associate pipe tobacco with the sea. And flake tobacco made it possible.
The problem was that tobacco tended to dry out on long sea voyages, over time becoming little more than dust. Sailors tried wrapping it tightly in canvas and sealing it with tar, but we all know how quickly tobacco picks up odors, so you may imagine the result. Replenishing its humidity level with water did not alleviate the problem, as the tobacco still broke down over time.
A strategy that did help was the use of sugar water or rum. The tobacco was soaked in a sugar solution and tended to keep longer that way. This method also helped with the space that tobacco monopolized; when damp with sugar water or rum, it could be compressed by hand into tighter, less bulky packages, an essential characteristic for the tight quarters endured by sailors.
Tobacco pressed in this manner dried out less quickly because less surface area was exposed.
Tobacco companies took notice and began pressing blocks of tobacco. We can only speculate about how much experimentation that process required, and different tobacco companies follow their own protocols, but eventually tobacco was available in pressed block form. Men at sea now had tobacco that maintained smokability over time. It wasn't pre-sliced at first, though. Sailors would carefully slice flakes from the tobacco block for smoking.
Flake tobaccos start out as any tobacco blend up until just before pressing, when sugar water is added for some duration and then dried until excess liquid unabsorbed by the tobacco evaporates. The tobacco is then steamed and placed into molds for a hydraulic press to apply pressure. These blocks vary in size depending on the tobacco company, but are typically around an inch and a half thick. They are stacked and placed into another press, and many tons of pressure is applied for 8-24 hours. Then the blocks are stored for the flavors to marry, usually about a month, all while maintaining pressure.
The blocks are then trimmed of their edges, which tend to be loose and frayed, and each neatly geometric block is cut into thin flakes, which are hand packed into tins that those sailors of 300 years ago would doubtless have found enormously convenient.
When our pipesmoking forebears were sailing the oceans with tobacco that wouldn't maintain smokability, they developed a solution, and that solution catalyzed and became a new cut of tobacco, one enjoyed today by countless pipe enthusiasts around the world. Flake tobaccos represent a unique way to enjoy the history, tradition and innovation of pipe tobacco, and to connect, however tenuously, with those seamen of yore who toiled in extreme conditions with little to sustain them but the comfort of a friendly pipe.
That being said, over the years I have gravitated to a couple of my pipes with narrow bowls for some reason.
The method I use will depend on how moist the flake is - I rub out the moister flakes, dice or cube the dry flakes and fold the ones in-between.
Matching Pipes and Tobaccos—Part 1
For quite a while, I’ve been attempting to discover some rhyme and reason for why some tobaccos just seem to “work” better in some pipes than others. At first, I looked to the conventional wisdom of my pipe smoking brethren to find answers. “Flakes are better in small pipes.” “Latakia blends are best smoked in larger bowls.” What I found there was a lot of disagreement, both amongst the folklore I collected, and within the context of my own experiences. I had to seek further to find the key to this particular mystery. I attempted to forget everything I thought I knew about the subject, and set out anew.
I have a set of four GBD 9493 pipes, a long shank pot with a short, saddle mouthpiece, that work magic with flakes. “Flakes in a POT? You must be insane!” my compatriots would say. Yet, these four pipes deliver fantastic smokes from any flake tobacco I choose to fill them with. Of course, it took some practice, some patience to learn how to smoke these wide bowls, but it was well worth the effort.
Casting the small/Flake, large/Latakia theory to the winds, I wondered, since these cavernous shapes seemed so well suited for flakes, if the tiny bowled pipes would produce similarly exceptional smoking experiences with Latakia blends. I grabbed a couple of small, straight rhodesians, and smoked them both with a variety of Latakia blends. Superb! Had I found a clue?
At the Richmond show this year, I bought a lovely, large Bonfiglioli, possibly the most capacious pipe I have ever owned. The next morning, it was time for its maiden voyage. Not wanting to dose myself to the point of hallucination with Virginias, which often make my head spin (especially if enjoyed on an empty stomach), I filled it with Abingdon, the fullest Latakia blend in my Classic Collection, yet quite a mild smoke. The flavor was outstanding, and every susequent bowl has been even better. So much for yet another theory—full Latakia in a large pipe tasted just fine.
I began smoking every size and shape pipe with every sort of tobacco I could think of. Still finding nothing conclusive, other avenues had to be pursued. Was it the provenance of the pipe that mattered? Did English pipes work best with Virginias, while Italian pieces had a predilection toward Latakia? It seemed that way to me for a while. After all, I really had enjoyed Latakias in my other Italian pipes. Or, had I? I recalled a beautiful Castello bent bulldog that barked and bit ferociously when Latakia was anywhere near it, yet became as gentle as a puppy with a Virginia/perique blend. It was a small bowl, besides. And, while some Dunhills seemed to work well with Virginias, the majority of those in my collection were dedicated to classic Latakia blends.
Could it be the work of a particular maker, the internal design of the pipe that makes the difference? I’ve smoked the pipes of many makers, and have failed to find that any brand consistently predisposes itself to a specific type of tobacco. The most conistent pipes I own are those of Larry Roush. Every one has been an outstanding smoke from the beginning, with a great clarity of flavor that articulates all that a tobacco has to offer. It’s not long, though, before the pipe begins to speak of its history. Even among Larry’s pipes, I discover that some pieces just take a liking to a particular type of tobacco, while others seem happier with something else. My big bent Roush apple (review) has always been a fantastic Latakia pipe, yet, one day, I filled it with a VA/perique blend, and the thing just came alive in ways I’d never before experienced.
I persisted, trying to isolate the characteristics of the wood from different sources. Curing methods were considered. To date, no consistency has been noted.
Size, shape, wood, maker—not one of these things provides that elusive key. I think Larry said it best when I was talking with him about this. “Every pipe has its own personality.” That’s it. Finding the right tobacco for any pipe is an adventure. Getting to know the pipe’s personality is part of the process of breaking it in.
Some pipes are sweet, some are earthy. Some have a bright taste, occasionally wandering into the territory of “sharpness,” while others are dark, sometimes to the point of being bland. Some have a tendency to add a nut-like taste to the smoke. Every pipe seems to color the flavor of the smoke in a somewhat different way. All of the myriad factors of wood and geometry come together when fire and leaf merge to produce a unique experience.
Wider bowls tend to provide more flavor intensity, with the wood playing somewhat less of a role in the smoke. This makes perfect sense, of course. There’s more tobacco smoldering, and the surface area of the ember increases with the square of the chamber’s radius, while the amount of briar in contact with the ember increases only linearly. Taller bowls result in an increase of the “filtering” action of the tobacco, softening the taste in the beginning of the bowl, and gradually building up greater and greater intensity as the tobacco is consumed. Tapered bowls exhibit somewhat less of this tendency, though if not packed very carefully, they can become so moist at the bottom as to be difficult to keep lit. Shallow bowls seem to hold a purity of the tobacco’s taste longer, if not as intensely.
There seem to be limits, though. A full flavored tobacco in a very tall bowl can build up too much intensity toward the end of the smoke, and can become tiring, or even acrid if everything isn’t just right. Too wide a bowl can yield too much of a tobacco’s nicotine content, if it is high to start with, especially to someone sensitive to its effects.
While I continue to gather data, this whole thing being just part of the enjoyment I get out of this great hobby, I’ll keep hoping to, one day, unlock the door. When I do, I’ll write Part II of this little tale. If others are motivated to play along, so much the better. Keep your logs, look for patterns. But, please, don’t tell me about them. I’ll be too busy enjoying my own experiments to worry about anyone else’s.
Addendum: Over the past several days, I’ve been smoking pipes that didn’t seem quite “right” with the tobaccos I’d been smoking in them. Using the tiny amount of understanding I’ve gained through haphazard “research” methodologies, I’ve been able to predict, with some success, what tobaccos would better suit them. I’m happy to say that a couple pipes with “marginal” smoking characteristics have become brilliant with the right tobaccos. Could there be a method to the madness after all?
PART 2
A friend of mine dedicates every new pipe to a specific tobacco. I applaud his rigorous bookkeeping, somewhat retentive attention to detail, and his dedication to methodology, but I’ve always wondered if he’s really getting the most out of his experience, or winding up selling some of his pipe and tobacco choices short. How do we know, at the start, what tobaccos will work best with a given pipe? I wish there was some sort of metric, as the process of discovery can sometimes fill a great deal of time.
I often start a pipe out with a Virginia, but not always. A lot depends on the size and geometry of the bowl, and on who made the pipe. I think some makers’ pipes have certain signature tastes, at least early on, that suggest the sort of tobacco they’ll like. Castellos, for instance, have always been best for me with rich, slightly sweet Latakia blends, or with dark Virginia/perique blends. There’s something about their “brightness” that seems to harmonize well with darker flavors, especially during the initial bowls.
If I’m lucky enough to stumble upon a good combination straight away, I thank the fates for the good fortune, and stick with it, or at least dedicate that pipe to the same genre of tobacco. If the original trials are less satisfactory, on the other hand, I’ll embark on a quest to find the right tobacco for the pipe, smoking a few bowls of something different in the thing, repeating the process until stumbling upon the right synergy.
This doesn’t always work out, but when it does, the results can be delightful. I was smoking one of my pipes, a wonderful smoker, with lighter Latakia blends, and it was providing a consistently excellent smoke. One day, I filled it with Stratford, and the result was sublime - almost magical. It’s a large bowl, one that I normally wouldn’t smoke Virginias in, but this combination is exquisite, and I haven’t looked back. It’s my Stratford pipe, and that’s all there is to it. So far, it has not disappointed, delivering a marvelous smoking experience with each bowl, though the lingering Latakia notes in the first few bowls did provide a delightful spice that has gradually dissipated through continued smoking.
More than once, I’ve found a pipe that really didn’t “work” with one blend or genre, and has transformed from ugly duckling to swan with a different tobacco, so if a pipe isn’t delivering, it’s always a good idea to try a different fuel for its fires before giving up on it.
I still can not find any rationale for this behavior in a pipe. Geometry clearly plays a role, as does the curing method of the briar, I suspect. But, each pipe has its own personality, it’s own preferences, it seems. (Though I still do enjoy my flakes in those wide-bowled GBD pots.)
This confounds the exploration of new blends, unfortunately. It’s hardly fair to smoke a tobacco in one pipe, and believe that the blend can be deeply understood. It takes several bowls in a given pipe to truly apprehend the complexities and nuances of a blend, and if it’s the “wrong” pipe, the tobacco can present an unfairly biased view of itself. Nor is it fair to a pipe to judge it based on a few experiences with a specific tobacco type.
On the other side of things, a great pipe that has been found ideal for a specific blend or type, can positively influence a less-than-great blend toward appearing better than it is. More than once, a pipe has delivered a wonderful smoking experience from a blend that just doesn’t perform in any other piece in my collection. Had that fortuitous combination not been discovered early, would I have dismissed the blend offhand? (I’ve sometimes said that I have pipes I could smoke lawn clippings in, and get a delightful smoke out of them. It’s almost true.)
It is the more subtle blends, often, that seem to be the most pipe sensitive. Powerful tobacco flavors often seem to overcome mediocre pipes, but those blends that rely on a quiet voice to express themselves are quite particular about the briar company they keep. This isn’t always the case, though. In particular, I’ve found Virginia blends, which tend to be more subtle, to be more forgiving of the briar in which they’re smoked than spicy, heavier Latakia blends. This seems counterintuitive, but it’s just another example of the complexities of our seemingly simple pastime.
The moral? With pipes and tobaccos, it’s best to give each a fair shot at delivering what it can, rather than relegating it early to some particular category, or worse, to the dustbin. Whilst some may seek rules and guidelines for choosing pipe and tobacco pairings based on cycles of the moon, the colour of the bowl, or the length of the current president’s term of office, without some pretty complex and rigorous scientific exploration, all this can really be is simplistic hand waving and wishful thinking. There’s nothing wrong with circles and arrows, but let’s not confuse them with science.
There’s a good reason Alfred Dunhill called it the “Gentle Art of Smoking,” rather than “The Hard Science.”
-glp
I smoke four or five tins of flake tobacco a year. I am around to announce that I haven't smoked a single one of those top 13.
@motie2, thanks for resurrecting this thread, I'm looking forward to reading the older posts when I have some quite time to enjoy some of the 2014 Dunhill Flake I just opened!